


When Karl Met Harry

by jennandanica, valuna



Series: A Distance Erased [1]
Category: LOTR RPS
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-16
Updated: 2009-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-03 02:22:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica, https://archiveofourown.org/users/valuna/pseuds/valuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A party's the last place Harry wants to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Karl Met Harry

**Author's Note:**

> The year is 1997 and the place is Auckland, New Zealand. Harry's a director/actor and Karl's an actor. This is _not_ Est backstory and is in no way canon for that game.

A party's the last place he wants to be. Sitting at home would be preferable. With a beer. By himself. Watching the moon rise over the ocean. Instead, Harry is standing in the kitchen of someone's else -- he thinks it might be Kevin's, but he's not sure -- with the beer, trying to follow the conversation Joel and Willa are having. Over him. They're why he's here instead of home. Them and Danielle, who insisted Harry get out of his house and socialize.

"Sorry, guys, you lost me about six random references ago," Harry says, ducking between them. "Gonna grab another brew." He shakes his empty. _And find the quickest route out of here._ "See if I can't find Dani, see what she's up to." _Get her to give me keys to some car._ He doesn't give them time to respond before he's crossing the kitchen, reaching over the counter for that beer.

Karl's not fond of parties. Never has been. About the only thing they're good for is free beer and finding someone to go home with. And this one looks like it might strike out on both counts. Unless he wants to break his rule of never going home with someone twice. _Christ_. He looks around the room, nods at Lucy, and points to his empty, quickly heading for the kitchen. She's a gorgeous woman but she's yet to accept that he's not one to pin any hopes on.

Things are looking up when he sees there's still beer. He tosses his empty in the bin and reaches out to snag another, his hand colliding with someone else's. "Sorry, mate." He grins at the other man -- friend of Danielle's if he remembers right -- and takes the beer beside his, raising it in a silent toast. "Only thing that makes these get-togethers bearable."

"Sorry," Harry mutters, not really looking up at first, concentrating on the beer, not wanting to have to make conversation with another actor he doesn't want to know. Then he does look up, as he's drawing back. Nice looking guy. Was on "Shortland" for a bit. But Harry can't for the life of him place the face with a name. Doesn't matter. He's not interested.

"Yeah." Harry shrugs. "A beer and we can talk through anything." _Oh, great, Harry, he's going to want to talk now._

Karl's not any more thrilled about talking than Harry is but it seems rude to just walk away. "You're a friend of Dani's, eh?" he says, opening the beer and taking a good long drink.

"Friend of Dani's. Yeah." Harry follows Karl's lead, not backing off, but staying his ground on the kitchen tile, popping open the beer and swigging at it. He licks the taste of beer off his bottom lip. "Harry," he says softly. "Sinclair. That's, um, my name." _God, you're a fuckin' git._

"Harry," Karl repeats as he holds out his hand. "Karl. Karl Urban." Not sure what's caught his attention but there's something there, beyond the physical. That peek of tongue flicking over his bottom lip, that voice -- _Christ_, he really needs to go the hell home. Has obviously had way too many already. "Pleased to meet you."

Harry wipes his hand on his jeans before reaching for Karl's. "Nice." Now he knows the name. Hot young star. Can't be much over legal. _Damn, Harry, you really should go home._ "To meet you. Right. That's nice." There's a reason he doesn't socialize. He's generally tongue-tied at introductions. Instead he smiles. "You were on 'Shortland' with Dani. That's where I know the face from."

Karl grins. "Yeah. That was a while ago. Now I'm playing Cupid and Caesar." He leans against the doorframe. "How d'you know Dani?" Asking more for an excuse to continue the conversation than because he really cares.

"Cupid and Caesar. Odd combination." Harry takes another drink, long one. He could see it in his mind, though, Cupid corrupting Caesar -- or maybe Caesar enslaving Cupid -- _And just stop it. Now._ "Friends for several years, and she's the star of my film. Actually, I know half the bloody HercXena cast from somewhere."

"You don't know me," Karl says, careful his voice only carries to Harry, the glint in his eyes making clear the invitation, one he should really know better than to put out there. _One of these days..._

"No." The glint's unmistakable. The invitation's obvious. "I don't know you." Harry's not so clueless as to ignore a come-on. "We could change that. Find a corner," he murmurs, glancing around -- last thing he wants is Kevin giving him grief about hitting on sweet young things, "talk or such."

"You involved with anyone?" Karl asks. He probably should have asked before issuing the damn invitation but sometimes his libido gets ahead of him.

"No." Random encounters don't count as "involved with" as far as Harry's concerned, and there isn't anyone he's seeing on a regular basis. "You?"

Karl chuckles softly at the thought. "No. Not me." Shakes his head. "So, you have a corner in mind?" He finishes off his beer, tossing the can in the nearby bin.

Harry laughs outright. "You _that_ hard to manage?" He finishes off his beer in another three swigs, adding his can to the growing pile.

"Depends on who you ask, but yeah, most would say so." Karl shrugs. He's not bragging, not challenging, just stating simple fact. He doesn't do relationships. Doesn't do anything, anyone, beyond fucking.

"S'okay. I don't mind a challenge." Harry says it very casually, very soft. "I think the porch is pretty quiet. That corner you were looking for."

Karl leads the way, the screen door slamming behind them. "You mind if I ask how old you are?" Not that it matters. It's just idle curiosity.

"Thirty-seven." Harry shrugs with the answer, figuring Karl can keep on walking if it's too old. "And you're? What? Legal?"

Karl snorts, swatting Harry on the shoulder. "Yes, I'm legal." He shakes his head in amused disbelief. "Christ. I'm twenty-five." Obviously it's old enough or Harry wouldn't be out here with in the first place.

"Nice age. I was in Paris when I was 25." Harry ignores the swat and leans against the porch's railing, hands bracing on the wood on either side of his hips. "But, yeah, that's old enough." He grins. "Qualifies for consenting adult."

"Hmm. Sounds like you have something in mind," Karl murmurs, grinning back. "Consent a big deal for you?" Slowly feeling Harry out, sure he's getting _that_ vibe from him.

"Consent's where it all starts and ends, Karl." Harry's tongue is out over his teeth again, bottom lip sucked in under tongue and teeth. "I don't do anything without it." It's an answer, but _not_ an answer, leaving it just open enough to be damned suggestive. "With it, I'll do most anything."

With anyone else, the last might seem like bragging, but that's not the feeling Karl's getting here. Gut instinct's telling him this guy's the real deal. _Fuck_. "From both sides?" he asks, figuring that one'll fly right over if he's wrong.

It doesn't go over Harry's head. "From both sides," he repeats, not putting the question inflection on it. "Like to keep my options open. You?"

Karl nods. "For the most part. Although I usually have to be put there." _And not just physically_. He looks over at Harry, gauging the other man. Just knowing he could do it. "You mind that?"

"Not at all." Harry shifts his weight, crossing his ankles and tilting his head to study Karl's frame in the rough lighting. He sucks at introductions, but once the bridge is crossed, Harry doesn't have any problem making conversation. "You into pain? Or is it just the mindgame and fuck that gets you off?"

"Both. Together or separate," Karl answers simply. Suddenly deciding to take a risk as he leans in across the railing and kisses Harry. Hard. Hungry. Almost fucking his mouth. "Think we could continue this somewhere a little more private?"

Harry's hand goes up between them, palm flat on Karl's chest, pushing him back a half-step, or rather keeping him from moving forward. "That was very forward of you, Karl," he murmurs, cocky grin on his lips in the wake of Karl's kiss. "Did you drive?"

So far, so good. "Yeah," Karl answers, the taste of Harry still on his tongue.

"Good," Harry says, pushing Karl back another step. "Then you won't have any trouble getting yourself home." He smiles and steps himself to the side. "It was nice meeting you, Karl. See you around."

Karl blinks hard, stunned, but quickly recovers. _Fuck you_. Oh, well. It's no real loss, he tells himself. He'd been thinking he was going home alone anyway. "Nice meeting you too, Harry," he says, fishing his keys out of his pocket. "Take care." And with that, he heads down the steps to his car.

Harry watches Karl walk off before heading back into the party. He didn't drive, so if he didn't go home with Karl he was going to have to wait on Danielle to drop him off. And she'd most likely grill him on why he'd vanished for awhile.

"Well, I met the most delightfully annoying sexy 25-year-old," he says to himself as he walks through the back door, "and I told him to go home." He shakes his head. "Real bright move, Harry."


End file.
